


Run Ragged

by LadyWallace



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Apologies, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, exhausted merlin, gen - Freeform, it's time for another tournament, post series 3, the knights take care of Merlin, the oc is a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: It's time for another tournament in Camelot but when Arthur offers Merlin's services to a knight whose servant got an unfortunate injury, Merlin finds the man intolerable and demanding. Will he be able to make it through the tournament serving two masters? Hurt/comfort, gen
Relationships: Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 240





	Run Ragged

**Author's Note:**

> A fic for Tessseagull! ^_^ I hope you enjoy this and it's what you were looking for!
> 
> This story is set between Season 3 & 4 with some mild spoilers for S3

Merlin glanced out Arthur's window at the courtyard below, which was quickly filling up with knights from neighboring kingdoms, all their different banners creating a rainbow of colors.

"I really don't understand why we have to have so many of these," Merlin rolled his eyes as he turned back to Arthur, settling his cloak around his shoulders.

Arthur gave him a longsuffering look. "Because, Merlin, it's a way for the different kingdoms to come together in friendly competition. Keeps alliances stronger."

Merlin snorted. "Friendly competition. Arthur, when has one of these tourneys ever gone completely fine? Like without some secret plot or murder somewhere along the line?"

Arthur glowered at him. "Stop being such a worry-wort, it will all be fine. Besides, this is the first time Lancelot and Gwaine and the others will get to compete in a tourney in official capacity. They deserve this, so don't ruin it for them."

Merlin had to agree with him there. It would be nice for the others to be able to join in on a tourney as actual knights to prove their skills instead of getting in under nefarious means. It was a shame that they would only be credited now because they were knights but that was just how it was.

Merlin had been happy the last few months after they had taken down Morgana and her brief rule of Camelot. For the moment, at least, everything seemed to be going okay.

He just hoped it continued through the tourney. Because he couldn't deny that they did really have a record of going badly.

"Whatever you say, Arthur," he said as he finished tying Arthur's cloak.

"Oh, and Merlin," Arthur told him, picking up his helmet from the table and shoving it into Merlin's chest as the dark-haired man let out an _oof_. "Make sure all my armor is polished and oiled for tomorrow. Think you can manage that?"

Merlin gave him an overly eager smile. "Of course, sire."

Arthur shoved him lightly in the shoulder. "Come on, let's go meet the guests. I have to introduce them to our new knights."

They headed down to the courtyard, and met with Lancelot, Gwaine, and the rest of the knights on the way. The courtyard was crowded and quite a mess of knights and horses and their servants running this way and that.

"Ah, Prince Arthur!"

The voice came from the side and a big man walked up to them as Arthur clasped his hand.

"Sir Darren, welcome back."

"It's my pleasure, sire, I'm quite looking forward to testing Camelot's finest in the lists!"

"Well, let me introduce you to some of the newest opponents you might be facing tomorrow."

Merlin stood off to the side as Arthur introduced Lancelot and the others.

"Well, you all look like worthy opponents," Sir Darren said, then strode closer to Arthur, lowering his voice. "This is a bit awkward, but I seem to have fallen into a bit of a predicament. You see, on the way here, my idiot servant had a bit of an accident. Fell off a horse and broke his arm. Now he can't aid me during the tournament."

"Oh, that's no problem," Arthur said and to Merlin's chagrin, turned to him. "Merlin here will see to it that all your needs are met. Won't you, Merlin? He's my own servant and he does a good job when he can get his head out of the clouds."

Merlin scowled slightly before he remembered to smooth his features out and nodded respectfully to the knight. "At your service, sir."

"Generous as always, Prince Arthur!" Sir Darren exclaimed.

"Merlin, why don't you start by helping Sir Darren with his luggage."

Merlin nodded with a barely concealed sigh as he went over to the pile of stuff the knight had brought with him. Lancelot at least shot him a sympathetic look but Arthur was already pulling them away to meet some of the other knights.

"Come on, boy, snap to it then!" Sir Darren told him. "I don't have all day."

Ruffled, Merlin set his jaw and hefted the largest chest. It nearly broke his back and he figured that it must contain the man's armor. He had no idea how he was expected to carry this, alone, all the way to the castle and up the stairs to the guest quarters Sir Darren would be staying in. He gave a quick glance around, but all the other servants seemed just as busy and probably wouldn't consider giving him a hand.

So Merlin managed it, huffing and puffing up the stairs as he dragged the chest up one step at a time. All the time Sir Darren watched him with barely concealed disdain until Merlin finally reached the top and dragged the chest the last few meters to the room Sir Darren would be staying in.

"Here we go," he panted, motioning tiredly into the room, as he tried to ease himself upright without his back giving out. "Enjoy your stay. Let me know if you need anything else."

Sir Darren glowered at him, folding his arms across his chest. "Where do you think you're going?"

Merlin frowned. "Um…back to see if the Prince needs anything?"

Sir Darren's glower deepened. "Prince Arthur gave you into my service for my time here, frankly I'm already disappointed and shocked that he puts up with you on a daily basis if this is how you usually perform. Are you not going to get the rest of my luggage from down there?'

"The rest…" Merlin felt himself pale slightly as he realized that _all_ of the luggage in the pile must have been Sir Darren's, not just from the same entourage. "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'," Sir Darren said mockingly, pointing out the door. "Go fetch it, then, boy. And when you get back here with the last of it, I want you to unpack it for me. I have a lot of things to prepare for and don't have time to direct you on how to do your job."

Merlin bit his lip to keep the retort off of his tongue, and instead bowed slightly. "Of course, sir, I will be back with the rest."

It took him the better part of an hour to get all the stuff up into Sir Darren's room. He couldn't fathom why one man would need so much for just a few days at a tourney. Most knights traveled pretty light, but then Merlin didn't personally know too many who were born true nobles either, aside from Arthur, who could definitely be a prat. But this man was giving even his royal highness a run for his money.

Sir Darren left the room, leaving Merlin to put everything away—undoubtedly to complain about his placement later—and Merlin worked as quickly as he could, wanting to be able to get this done and get out of here before Arthur began wondering where he was.

Unfortunately, just as he was finishing up, Sir Darren came back from whatever he had been doing, and stood there with his arms crossed. "You still aren't done? I really will have to talk to the prince about his incompetent servants."

"Just finishing up," Merlin assured him.

"Well, get to it, because after you finish this, I want you to polish my armor. Make sure it's all sound after the journey."

Merlin just barely kept his shoulders from slumping. "Yes, sir."

If this kept up, he'd never get around to doing Arthur's armor, and then he'd just get into more trouble. He also would need to be in the hall by supper time as well to help serve.

Merlin sighed as soon as Sir Darren left. This whole tournament was getting more and more tedious.

He sat down to work on Sir Darren's armor and by the time he was done, he had to race to the dining hall to get there in time. As he grabbed a pitcher of wine to go over to Arthur's table and begin serving drinks, the prince looked up at him with a frown.

Arthur leaned close with a hiss. "Merlin, where the hell have you been all day?"

"Sorry, sire, but the man you loaned me to is quite demanding," Merlin quipped. "He had me doing all kinds of stuff all day long."

"Well, I hope you're finished, because you still have my armor to polish and some mending on my tabard I need you to do before tomorrow."

Merlin refrained from sighing. He was already exhausted, and it didn't look like he was going to be getting much sleep that night.

And sure enough, the dinner ending up running late into the night with all the visitors chatting and laughing with Arthur and Uther and the other knights.

By the time Merlin finally got Arthur off to his room, it was past midnight. He gathered up Arthur's armor to polish it in his room so he wouldn't keep the prince up later than he had to—after all, Arthur was the one jousting tomorrow, Merlin through wryly.

"Oh, Merlin, my tabard," Arthur called him back, plucking the item from the back of a chair and throwing it at Merlin. It landed over his head and Merlin had to shake it down onto the rest of the armor so he could see.

"You know, if you didn't constantly get stabbed, I wouldn't have to do so much mending," Merlin told him.

"Don't be smart, Merlin," Arthur snipped. "And remember to be up extra early. I'll need my tent set up out on the tournament grounds and all my stuff brought out there."

"Yes, sire," Merlin sighed wearily as he trudged out the door. "Goodnight."

Arthur murmured something into his pillow and Merlin nudged his door shut with his foot, heading with his heavy load toward Gaius's chambers.

"Oi, boy."

Merlin turned, feeling his heart sink as he saw Sir Darren. "Yes, sir?"

"I'll need someone to help set my tent up in the morning and bring my stuff out there. Don't forget."

"Yes, sir," Merlin said again, weary.

How on earth was he supposed to do all of this in time for the tournament the next morning?

His stomach growled, reminding him that he'd had nothing to eat either. He hoped Gaius had left him something for supper.

When he got back to Gaius's chambers, the old healer was already asleep, snoring. Merlin smiled fondly, and quickly dumped Arthur's armor in his own room before heading back out to the main room. He pulled a blanket over Gaius and then looked toward the table.

He sighed. All that was there was a small roll and some cheese. But it was better than nothing, he supposed. Gaius probably thought he had gotten to eat something earlier.

Merlin wolfed the food down and then went to work on Arthur's armor, making it shine, then took up needle and thread and repaired the tabard as well.

The tolling bell told him how late—or rather, early—it was by the time he finished, and he collapsed on his bed, feeling more defeat than anything. At this rate, he would probably get two hours of sleep before he would need to be up if he was going to get everything done in time for the tournament to start in the morning.

He woke before the sun even thought about rising, feeling like he hadn't slept at all. Merlin dragged himself out of bed, smothering a yawn, and dressed.

It was down to the tournament field first, to set up the tents. Some of the other servants were already out there, and Merlin started off with Arthur's tent, at least having a little help with it since it was impossible to set up completely with just one person.

Once he got all of that set up, he went back to his rooms and gathered Arthur's armor, knowing he would be putting it on once he got to the lists. Once he'd set everything up properly, he went to get the stuff ready for Sir Darren.

By that time, people were already starting to arrive. Gwaine was one of the first knights out there, catching sight of Merlin as he was struggling with the stakes for Sir Darren's tent.

"Merlin! You've out here early," Gwaine greeted, all too cheerful for this early in the morning.

Merlin straightened up. "Well, not like I have a choice. Got too much to do."

"Need any help?" Gwaine asked.

Merlin smiled gratefully. "Thanks, but I've got it, and it wouldn't really be proper, would it? A knight doing a servant's job? What would all the visiting nobles think?"

Gwaine scoffed. "You know I don't care about that."

"Well, I'm done anyway," Merlin told him, dusting his hands off, as he rubbed his back, still aching a bit from the day before. "Are you excited about your first official tourney?"

Gwaine grinned. "Aye, I can't really believe it! All of this has just been so bizarre, but like a dream come true."

Merlin grinned back, unable to help himself. He was glad to see his friend so excited. It almost made doing all this extra work worth it.

Still, he really wished that he didn't have to do extra for Sir Darren. Tourneys were enough work as it was, and three days of serving two masters was going to kill him.

"I can't wait to see how you do. But I've got to go get breakfast for Arthur now, and make sure he's awake."

Gwaine gave him a salute and headed off toward the tent that would be shared by the Camelot knights.

Merlin made his way back to the castle, stopping in the kitchens to grab some breakfast for Arthur, before heading up to his chambers.

He met Gwen on her way down the hall and she smiled at him.

"Good morning, Merlin, bringing Arthur breakfast?"

Merlin nodded. "Yeah, got to get his lazy backside out of bed too before he gets mad at me for not waking him up sooner."

She smiled and was about to pass him when the door behind her opened up, and Sir Darren came out.

"There you are! Is that my breakfast? I've been waiting for nearly half an hour!"

Merlin caught Gwen's startled glance, and stuttered. "Er, this is the prince's breakfast, but I'll bring yours in just a moment…"

"You haven't even brought the prince his breakfast yet?" the man demanded, shock on his face. "Does your incompetence know no bounds? Exactly how long have you been in service?"

"This is when I always bring the prince his breakfast. He doesn't like to be woken earlier," Merlin replied tightly.

The man fumed. "Well, I like mine earlier. I hope you'll remember that tomorrow."

"Sir, I will bring your breakfast this morning," Gwen cut in, and quickly hurried off.

Sir Darren grabbed Merlin by the front of his coat, nearly causing him to spill the breakfast. "I really hope I don't have to remind you to do your job again, because I don't think you'll like that lesson."

Merlin forced himself to turn his eyes down respectfully, even though he wanted to stare at the man. It wasn't worth provoking him. "It won't happen again, sir. I apologize."

Sir Darren released him with a shove. "It had better not. And you had better be in my tent by the time I get down there so you can help me into my armor."

Merlin spun on his heel quickly, fury spreading through him. Why did Arthur have to give him the order to help this man out? Couldn't it have been someone with some common decency?

Arthur grumbled as Merlin got him out of bed and dressed, then sat and ate his breakfast.

"Jousting today," Arthur said, conversationally. "And then it's the one-on-one tomorrow and the melee on the third day."

"Yes, lots of ways to beat each other into oblivion," Merlin quipped, unable to help a weary sigh.

Arthur looked up at him with a glower. "What's gotten into you, Merlin? You're acting weirder than usual, and you look tired."

"Well, that's probably because I had twice as many tasks to do between last night and today."

"Oh, stop whining," Arthur grunted. "A little extra work isn't going to kill you."

Merlin forced a smile. "Yes, of course. Sorry, sire, don't let me ruin your fun."

Arthur rolled his eyes and stood. "Well, it's time to get down there, I suppose."

Merlin followed Arthur down to the lists. The grounds were filling with people, both participants to the tourney and the audience. Uther sat in his usual place on a raised platform with some of the higher nobles and visiting dignitaries.

Once in the tent, Merlin helped Arthur into his armor, strapping it all in the right places.

Lancelot came in, a wide smile on his face.

"Lancelot, are you ready?" Arthur asked the knight.

Lancelot bowed his head. "I'm a bit nervous, but I'm ready. I can't believe this is actually happening."

Arthur stepped toward him and clasped his shoulder. "You've come a long way and you have earned this. I've never been more proud than I am of you and the others, and I know you'll make Camelot proud today."

Lancelot placed a hand over his heart. "I will strive to do my best," he said.

Only he and Gwaine and Leon would be competing in the joust that day. Elion and Percival would be taking part in the one-on-one combat, and then everyone would be joining in the melee as usual.

"You've got this, Lancelot," Merlin told him with a grin.

Lancelot grinned back and left the tent.

Merlin finished buckling the last strap on Arthur's grieve, and straightened up. "There you go. I need to go and see to Sir Darren now," he said.

"Of course," Arthur said.

Merlin hurried to the other tent and saw with a sinking feeling that Sir Darren was already there.

And he looked furious.

"Where the hell have you been, boy? I told you to be here when I got here! I'm in the second bout!"

"Sorry, Sir Darren, I was seeing to the Prince—"

A sharp sting across his face shocked Merlin before he even knew what had happened. He stared in shock as Sir Darren lowered his hand, touching his cheek gingerly, which felt hot.

"I'm tired of your excuses. Next time just do what I ask."

He turned around to head into the tent and Merlin forced himself to follow him, still stunned.

Arthur would never have straight-up slapped him like that. Yes, the prince might knock him upside the head, and whatnot, but it was never malicious, and Arthur never did those things in anything but a brotherly way. It was never downright punishment, or just because he was simply displeased with him. This was something different.

Merlin found his face flaming as he silently helped Sir Darren into his armor as quickly as possible, his hands shaking despite himself, a combination of surprise, anger, and probably exhaustion.

"Anything else, sir?" Merlin asked tightly.

The knight looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Accompany me to the lists. I'll need someone to hand me my helmet and lance, obviously."

Obviously. Merlin took up his helmet and followed the man toward the lists, glancing up toward the score board that held all the participant's heraldry to see when Arthur and the other knights would be jousting, glad that there would be a couple rounds before Arthur was up.

He handed Sir Darren his helmet and lance when it was his turn and watched as he won by a hairsbreadth against his opponent. Merlin pressed his lips into a thin line. He had half hoped the man would be knocked out on his first round so he wouldn't have to deal with him again, but it didn't look like he was going to be that lucky.

It was a long day, but Arthur and his knights did well in their matches. Sir Darren ended up being knocked out in his second bout by Leon, which made Merlin smirk to himself. But at the end of the day the ultimate winner ended up being Lancelot. Merlin cheered on his friend from the sidelines as Lancelot rode in front of the people in a victory lap, tearing off his helmet to reveal an elated grin.

Thankfully, by then, Merlin had already finished getting Sir Darren out of his armor, but now it would be time to serve dinner again, and then more armor polishing for the next day, most likely.

After getting Arthur out of his armor, Merlin hurried back to his chambers to clean up as quickly as possible before he helped Arthur—and probably Sir Darren—dress for dinner.

He found Gaius there with a young man who had his arm in a sling.

"It doesn't look too bad, it's a clean break," Gaius told him kindly. "I would say it should heal within three weeks or so. In the meantime, I'll get you something to take for the pain."

The man nodded and Gaius went to his shelves to find what he was looking for, greeting Merlin as he saw him standing there.

"Oh, Merlin, there you are. How was the tournament?"

"Lancelot won," Merlin said, proud of his friend, despite his weariness.

"That's good!" Gaius said.

"Um, do you happen to know how Sir Darren did?" the injured man asked hesitantly.

Merlin turned to him with a frown. "Wait, you're his servant?"

The man nodded, shifting as if uncomfortable. "Yes…are you the one who's been serving him in my stead?"

Merlin nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid he got knocked out in the second round."

The man shrugged, then winced. "Oh, well, he's not as good as he likes to think he is—" He blushed. "I spoke out of place…"

"No, it's fine," Merlin said, not at all surprised that this man didn't think much of Sir Darren either. "He's a bit difficult, if I'm being honest."

The man shifted again. "You can say that."

Merlin shot him a more appraising look, lingering on his arm. Was it possible his injury wasn't entirely an accident? He shook himself, he didn't have time to think about this. "Hope you feel better," he told the man and hurried off to change into clean clothes.

That night went much the same as the previous one, leaving him with armor that would need to be polished. Again.

After dinner, which thankfully didn't run quite as late, though, Gwaine snagged him before he could retreat.

"Merlin! There you are! We're heading to the tavern to have a few drinks in honor of Lancelot's win today!"

Merlin sighed with a small smile. "I really don't have the time."

"Come on, Merlin, just for a little while," Lancelot said. "You look like you could use a break!"

Merlin softened at his friend's excited face, and shrugged. "Okay, one drink, but I really can't stay long."

"Haha, 'atta boy!" Gwaine cried triumphantly as he hooked his arm over Merlin's shoulders and pulled him along with the other knights, as they headed into town.

They gathered at a large table in the tavern and Gwaine was already off flirting with the barmaid for their drinks. Merlin sat down and then realized that this was the first time he had sat down all day. He sighed gratefully and sank back against the wall, closing his eyes.

"What's this? Falling asleep already, Merlin?" Gwaine demanded as he slammed a mug of frothy ale down in front of Merlin. "Come on!"

Merlin forced a grin and took up the tankard, sipping it. Again, he'd hardly had anything but some bread he had snatched earlier, and honestly the ale in his empty stomach was making him feel slightly ill.

"Leave him alone, Gwaine, I'm sure he's tired," Leon said.

Lancelot patted Merlin kindly on the shoulder. "You don't have to stay longer than you want. But we're happy you came with us."

"Well, I couldn't let you celebrate your first tournament win without me," Merlin told him with a grin and raised his glass. "To Sir Lancelot!"

"To Sir Lancelot!" The others roared as they clashed their mugs together so hard most of the ale spilled onto the table.

But Merlin did only finish his one glass before he had to bid the others goodnight, making his way back to the castle. He still had the armor to polish and the swords to sharpen for tomorrow.

He was up again before the crack of dawn, to a day very similar. Sir Darren was just as abrasive as before, though at least he didn't hit Merlin again, just gave him disparaging looks, which served to make Merlin even more exhausted.

By the third day, he was dragging his feet, and even Arthur noticed.

"Merlin, what's going on with you today?" he asked as Merlin was on his third attempt to buckle the strap on Arthur's paldron.

"Sorry," Merlin murmured. "I'm just a bit tired."

Arthur glanced up at him, calculatingly. "You do look like horse dung."

"Thanks," Merlin snorted.

Arthur clapped his shoulder as he finally finished, startling Merlin slightly. "Tell you what, you've been doing so much between me and Sir Darren, that, tomorrow, I'll let you have the day off."

Merlin actually smiled, gratefully. "Seriously? Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur smirked. "But first, I mean to win the melee with my team."

Merlin rolled his eyes good-naturedly and handed him his helmet as the prince walked off toward his horse.

"Where is that boy?"

Merlin heard the shout and hurriedly groaned under his breath before running back to Sir Darren's tent, and helping him into his own armor.

"I've never beheld such incompetence," the man snarled, kicking Merlin in the ankle as he strode out of the tent. Merlin gasped and limped after him, wincing.

"Whoa, you okay, Merlin?" Percival asked, walking past and catching the servant as he stumbled.

Merlin gritted his teeth. "Fine. You had best get out there, the melee is starting."

He hurried back to Arthur, helping him mount his horse and, then watched as the melee began.

The loudness of the clashing was giving him a headache, almost disorienting to his sleep-deprived body. On top of that, he still hadn't had a chance to eat breakfast that morning. This was the third day in a row where he'd only snatched some bits of food here and there. It was really starting to tell on him.

Arthur's side won the melee, as expected, and Merlin was honestly just glad it was all over. The promise of having the next day off gave him the energy he needed to keep going even though he really wanted to just collapse.

He hadn't even gotten to Arthur's tent to help him yet, before Sir Darren popped up out of nowhere.

"Boy, get in here and help me with my armor! And then you need to get it all packed for me."

Merlin glanced up. "Sir, I need to see to the Prince first…"

The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, the right side of his face aching.

"Don't you dare talk back to me! I should give you a thrashing!"

He was yanking the belt of his tabard off as Merlin rolled over onto his back, trying to push himself up with trembling arms.

"Hey!"

"What the hell are you doing?"

Someone suddenly crouched next to Merlin, pulling him upright.

"Merlin, are you all right?"

Merlin blinked up dazedly to see Lancelot crouching beside him with worry in his eyes.

"What's your problem?" Sir Darren demanded.

"What's _our_ problem?" Gwaine demanded, and Merlin could see his face red with fury. "You just hit Merlin! How do you think that's okay?"

"I-I'm fine," Merlin tried to push himself the rest of the way up, but he didn't have any more strength.

"He's a servant! What does it matter?"

Leon and the others were suddenly there too, which was good because he and Percival had to grab Gwaine before he lunged at Sir Darren.

"What's going on?"

Merlin looked up, embarrassed to see Arthur arrive on the scene. Lancelot had his hand firmly on Merlin's shoulder, as if protecting him.

"Sire, with all respect, your men are overreacting," Sir Darren brushed off.

"Overreacting my arse!" Gwaine snarled but Arthur held up a hand to stop him, casting a furrowed look at Merlin.

"What happened?" he asked again.

"I'm just disciplining your lazy servant, which, if you don't mind my forwardness, sire, probably doesn't happen frequently enough."

"He struck him," Lancelot added for clarity. "You can see the bruising."

Arthur's eyes widened. "You hit Merlin? You think it's your place to punish my servant? What did he even do?"

Sir Darren folded his arms across his chest. "He wasn't there when I needed him."

"He was attending me!" Arthur snapped. "He's my servant first and foremost, and I was generous enough to loan him to you but not for every minute of the day. It seems you've forgotten that."

"I do apologize, sire, but that still doesn't make sheer incompetence okay."

"Merlin might be a bit clumsy at times, but he's the best servant I've ever had," Arthur said firmly.

"And insinuating that the prince doesn't know how to handle his own servants is indeed an offense against his highness," Lancelot added, his voice icy. "Is that what you were trying to do?"

"No, of course not!" Sir Darren backtracked, "Sire, I didn't at all mean…"

Merlin found it harder and harder to stay upright, his head was swimming and he sagged further against Lancelot.

"Merlin? Hey, Merlin!" Lancelot called, tapping his cheek. "Arthur, I think something's wrong…"

Merlin didn't even care to find out if he was right. His eyes wouldn't stay open another second and he slipped off into oblivion.

_~~~~~~~_

_When he woke_ , he was warm and comfortable, something weighted over top of him, and something damp across his forehead. Merlin groaned, reaching up blearily to rub his sticky eyes, and blinked them open.

"There you are, my boy."

Gaius's blurry figure came into view, leaning over him with a small smile.

Merlin blinked again in confusion, feeling groggy and like he had slept a long time. "Wh-what happened?"

His voice was dry and Gaius turned to get a glass of water and helped him drink. "You seem to have worked yourself to exhaustion. You had a low fever too. But it's getting better now."

Merlin drank a couple gulps before that tired him out and he closed his eyes again.

"Arthur…"

"He's fine, he's worried about you," Gaius told him fondly, tucking blankets back around him. "Just go back to sleep for now."

Whether he wanted to or not, Merlin found himself unable to do anything else.

_~~~~~~~_

_The next time he woke_ , he felt a little more together, and it was to quiet voices talking in the background. When he stirred and opened his eyes, he saw Lancelot, Gwaine and the other knights gathered in his small room.

"Ah! He's awake," Gwaine said with a grin and came over, bending down to pat Merlin on the shoulder. "How are you feeling, mate?"

Merlin grunted, not sure what to say.

"Stop pestering him," Leon chided. "He's exhausted."

Lancelot came forward with a tray of steaming items. "This is from Gaius; he said that if you're ready you should try and eat something."

They helped him sit up in bed, and Merlin just felt completely bewildered as a warm mug of tea was placed into his hands and after that a bowl of porridge.

"I…thank you, but I don't understand. Why are you all here?"

"Because, you're our friend, dummy," Gwaine said, nudging him in the shoulder.

"And we didn't realize that you were suffering so badly sooner," Lancelot said, a small pained pinch of his mouth telling of guilt.

Merlin looked between all of them, setting his spoon back into his bowl. "You don't have to feel guilty," he told them firmly. "Please don't!"

"It's not exactly guilt," Lancelot told him, sitting at the foot of his bed. "We just feel bad and we wanted to take care of you because you do so much for everyone else."

"We were really worried," Percival told him genuinely.

Merlin felt a warmth start in his chest that had nothing to do with the food.

Lancelot smiled at him and patted his knee. "We'll leave you now though since it's kind of crowded in here, but we'll come back and check on you. I'm going to go tell Arthur you're awake."

Merlin thanked them, eating more of his porridge as he allowed the warmth of his friends to make all the hurts he had accumulated go away.

He was just finishing his breakfast when he heard Arthur enter Gaius's chambers and ask for him. Gaius pointed toward Merlin's room and Merlin set aside his bowl as Arthur came to his room, knocking on the door even though it was mostly open.

"Hey," Merlin greeted.

"Hey," Arthur replied, shifting as if uncomfortable before he came into the room fully, shoulders slumping, and pulled a chair over to sit by the side of the bed. He cleared his throat. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Merlin offered a small smile. "I am."

Arthur played with the ring on his finger before he glanced up and met Merlin's eyes firmly. "I wanted to apologize for what happened."

Merlin shook his head. "It wasn't your fault."

"But it was," Arthur said firmly. "I never should have ordered you to help Sir Darren. I just didn't think it would…I knew he was a rather ill-tempered man, but I didn't know he would go that far. Apparently, he has a record of beating his servants. Honestly, not a very noble way for a knight to act."

"It still isn't your fault," Merlin reminded him.

"That doesn't mean I don't feel bad," Arthur told him, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "Not to mention the fact that I didn't see that you were practically dead on your feet. Gaius said you collapsed from exhaustion, that you probably hadn't even eaten much in the last couple days." He glowered then, pointing a firm finger at Merlin. "I swear, Merlin, if you do that again…Just…tell me if you haven't eaten. You know I'd never begrudge you time to eat."

Merlin smiled slightly. "I know that, you've always been good to me, Arthur. Even if you _are_ a dollophead."

"Oh, don't start," Arthur growled, but it was good-natured. He sobered again. "But seriously, you'll let me know if I work you too hard, won't you?"

Merlin hedged mockingly. "I don't know, Arthur, are you sure you want me too? You know how much I complain, I might beg for a lot more days off than I really deserve."

"I'm being serious, Merlin," Arthur huffed.

Merlin smiled. "Seriously, Arthur, I never work any harder than you do on a daily basis. It's just different kinds of work."

Arthur nodded slowly and then smiled, reaching out to give Merlin's hair an annoying ruffle. "I'm glad you're better anyway."

Merlin jerked away, and smoothed his hair down again. "So…just how many more days off do I get for collapsing?"

"Don't test me too much, Merlin," Arthur told him, pointing a finger at him.

Merlin grinned back.

Arthur's face softened. "Just get some rest. I'm sure you'll be fine in a couple days."

Merlin sank back into the bed again. "I'm sure I will be."

Arthur left and Merlin smiled, closing his eyes again. He really was grateful that despite all the hardships that might befall him great or small, he had such good people to call friends.


End file.
